Secret Heartaches and Blackmail Material
by Alohaemora
Summary: Rose Weasley finds a very tantalizing newspaper article. "Rosie," Hermione said in a stunned voice. "You don't honestly believe this rubbish, do you?" She seemed to gather the worst from Rose's sheepish expression.


10 August 2019

Thirteen-year-old Rose Weasley was bored.

Nestled comfortably in the attic bedroom of the Burrow—as Weasley-Potter children often choose to do when there was nothing else—she decided to investigate some of the old cardboard boxes that lay around the room, untouched, just begging to be opened.

Slinking furtively across the room, as though disturbing the tranquil atmosphere of the area would result in something horrifying, Rose knelt in front of the huge collection of boxes. She scanned through the box labels swiftly; the variety really was astonishing. Box names ranged from 'Ginevra's Baby Pictures' to 'Lily and James'—Uncle Harry must've left those there—to 'Teddy's Toys' to 'A Very Weasley Wedding.'

Smirking at a rather small box labeled, 'Ronald Weasley's Potty Training' (she really did not need to see that, Rose decided), she caught sight of one that was tucked away in the corner, almost hidden by the large number of shadows cast across it.

It was labeled 'The Triwizard Tournament.'

She frowned. Surely, neither her parents or her grandparents had witnessed a Triwizard Tournament. She'd thought those had been banned decades ago. Too many casualties.

Casting a cautious look in the direction of the door, Rose pulled the box forward and stared at it hesitantly.

She wasn't an idiot. She knew the kinds of life-threatening situations that her parents and Uncle Harry had gotten themselves into at school. She knew that they'd vanquished the most influential Dark Wizard of all time.

But, this was different. This was…well, normal. It was something any one could find themselves caught in the middle of.

Opening the box (what could be in it that was so horrible anyway?), she fumbled through the many newspaper and magazine clippings and photographs, pulling one out at random.

Gently, she smoothed it out, creasing away the many wrinkles. For a moment, she wondered whether the article had been crumpled up on purpose. _Harry Potter's Secret Heartache_, Rose read.

"Definitely on purpose," she muttered to herself, smirking, as she continued to read.

_A boy like no other, perhaps—yet a boy suffering all the usual pangs of adolescence, writes Rita Skeeter. Deprived of love since the tragic demise of his parents, fourteen-year-old Harry Potter thought he had found solace in his steady girlfriend at Hogwarts, Muggle-born Hermione Granger._

_Little did he know that he would shortly be suffering yet another emotional blow in a life already littered with personal loss._

_Miss Granger, a plain but ambitious girl, seems to have a taste for famous wizards that Harry alone cannot satisfy. Since the arrival at Hogwarts of Viktor Krum, Bulgarian Seeker and hero of the last World Quidditch Cup, Miss Granger has been toying with both boys' affections. Krum, who is openly smitten with the devious Miss Granger, has already invited her to visit him in Bulgaria over the summer holidays, and insists that he has "never felt this way about any other girl."_

_However, it might not be Miss Granger's doubtful natural charms that have captured these unfortunate boys' interest._

_"She's really ugly," says Pansy Parkinson, a pretty and vivacious fourth-year student, "but she'd be well up to making a Love Potion, she's quite brainy. I think that's how she's doing it."_

_Love Potions are, of course, banned at Hogwarts, and no doubt Albus Dumbledore will want to investigate these claims. In the meantime, Harry Potter's well-wishers must hope that, next time, he bestows his heart on a worthier candidate._

Rose felt physically sick.

She doubted she'd ever be able to look at Uncle Harry the same way again.

She'd never known, not in a million years, that her mum had dated her uncle.

And Victor Krum? The foolhardy coach of the Bulgarian Quidditch Team? The one her father always sneered at? (Now, she knew why.)

Rose threw the article to the floor, her heart thrashing against her chest. How could her mother have kept this from her?

And furthermore, how could her mother have been such a—a tease?

Without warning, the attic door opened with a _click_, and Rose froze with fear as a bushy brown-haired, brown-eyed figure came into view.

"Merlin's beard, what are you doing up here?" Hermione asked breathlessly. "Al!" she called down the stairs. "I've found her. She's in the attic!"

"Good! Tell her from me she's a prat!" Al's annoyed voice echoed from numerous floors below.

Rose immediately tried to shield the clipping from her mother, but Hermione Weasley was too quick for her; in an instant, she had snatched the paper out of her daughter's reach. Rose watched anxiously as her mother's eyes scanned over the clipping. She was waiting for her mother to drop to her knees at any second, and explain how this was all the past, and that none of this mattered anymore. But, to Rose's utter astonishment, she giggled.

Soon, she was chuckling.

Then, it was full-on, maniacal laughing.

"Mum!" Rose exclaimed, scandalized. "This isn't funny! How could you have not told me you dated Uncle Harry? And Victor Krum? At the same time, too!"

This shut her mother up.

"Rosie," Hermione said in a stunned voice. "You don't honestly believe this rubbish, do you?"

She seemed to gather the worst from Rose's sheepish expression.

"I never dated Uncle Harry," her mother said firmly.

"And Victor Krum?" Rose pressed.

Hermione hesitated. "We…we only went on one date, ever."

"Did you snog?" Rose asked sharply.

Hermione blushed, averting her eyes. She nodded jerkily.

"Mum!"

"What?" Now, it was Hermione's turn to sound defensive. "One does not have any intention of marrying the person they snog when they're fifteen, Rose!"

Rose looked still-doubtful.

"When your uncle Harry was fifteen, he snogged Cho Chang. When Auntie Ginny was fifteen, she snogged Dean Thomas," Hermione explained, shrugging.

"And, Dad?"

Hermione's lips twitched into a smirk. "Lavender Brown. She and your dad used to thrash around like a pair of eels, all around the Gryffindor Common Room."

Rose wrinkled her nose, thoroughly disgusted by the mental image her mother had presented her with. "Well, maybe you're right…maybe I was overreacting a little," she said thoughtfully, getting to her feet a moment later, her face splitting into a very devious expression that Hermione didn't notice. "Thanks for the talk, Mum. I think I needed that."

"No problem, sweetheart," Hermione said fondly, patting her daughter on the back. "I'm glad you're—"

"Oy, Al!" Rose bellowed down the stairs. "Guess who our parents snogged at school?"

Hermione's eyes grew wide. She blanched, as three voices—Harry's, Ron's, and Ginny's—simultaneously shouted furiously, "_Hermione_!"

She covered her mouth with her hands. "Merlin's beard…"

* * *

><p>Just a silly little oneshot that came to my mind as I was skimming through the Goblet of Fire. :)<p> 


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